


How to Find Love

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Admiration, Attacks, Bondage, Dinner Party, Dress Uniform, Drinking to Cope, Fights, First time with a man, Gentle touches, Handcuffs, Horseback Riding, Jealousy, Kinky sex, Kissing, M/M, Spies, Unrequited Love, Virgin Sherlock, Weapons, first time bdsm, formal wear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Mycroft is watching Gregory and Sherlock has a flatmate. It happens what always happens. They all have to attend mummy's dinner party. Formal wear and royalty is expected. John has issues. Sherlock worries. Mycroft directs. Greg has a good time.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	1. The Reason

Mycroft had been after Lestrade for quite some time. He was jealous of the relationship Sherlock had with John. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. That’s why he decided to take action.

One late evening he sat in his armchair. He was all alone in his town-house and kept asking himself why the hell he had bought this house for only himself? It was a nice place to show off but actually he only showed off in his job being the British Government. At home, there was nobody he could show off to.

The Ice-Man - also known as Mycroft Holmes – was a very lonely person. That’s why he was staring at people over the CCTV. Of course, only at people who he was concerned about, like his brother; or at people who he secretly liked a lot, like DI Gregory Lestrade.

***

Lestrade yelled after his soon to be ex-wife when she slammed the door behind her.

“Go to hell and don’t you dare ever coming back!” Then he deeply breathed for a minute and started to drink himself into a stupor. His mobile dinged with a text message alert. He frowned but checked.

_“She is not worth the hangover you will be having tomorrow morning if you continue.”  
MH_

“What the fuck? Who is MH?” Greg thought and sighed. He only knew one H and that was Sherlock.

“Oh, hold on. MH, Mycroft Holmes? How could he know? Oh, no worries …” He already spoke to himself his voice being slurred. He typed an answer.

_“Why the hell do you care? Checking on my drinking habits to report?”  
GL_

_“I worry about you. Need to talk to someone?”  
MH_

_“As in you?”  
GL_

_“Yes.”  
MH_

Greg only needed some seconds to decide. He had always been fascinated by Sherlock’s older brother. He was immaculate, rather good-looking, posh, and powerful. Greg had always wondered if he was single.

_“I am coming over.”  
GL_

_“I will send a car. Be outside in 10 minutes.”  
MH_

_“See you.”  
GL_

Greg stared down at his mobile and wondered what he had just done. Well, he would find out soon.

Not caring about the fact that Mycroft was watching, he dashed into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He grabbed a tee from the airer frowning slightly about the fact that it wasn’t pressed. Well, he couldn’t help it now, could he?  
He stood outside his house right on time shrugging on his jacket. A sleek black sedan pulled up at the curb and a woman stepped out who he knew as Anthea. She didn’t say anything, she just looked up for a moment smiling. She waved him inside and he just moved on. They didn’t talk and Greg felt a bit wired watching her typing frantically on her mobile. Probably to tell Mycroft she had him picked up. They stopped and she finally spoke.

“We are here. Just step out and open the front door. He will be there.” He swallowed.

“Thank you, Anthea.” She looked at him.

“It’s Diana today.” He chuckled and got out. He took the flight of stairs and admired the building. He could only dream of living inside such a wonderful place. He opened the door and slowly stepped inside.

“Mr Holmes, Sir?” A shadow came to life right beside him. He gasped and made a step to the side.

“DI Lestrade, I am right here. I am sorry if I have scared you.”

“You are as sneaky as your brother, Mr Holmes.” Mycroft thinly smiled.

“Maybe he is as sneaky as me. Why don’t you come in and we have another drink?” Greg nodded and followed him deeper inside the house. At the end of the aisle, they entered a large living room with a fire-place. Some logs were burning and it was warm and cosy. Greg relaxed into the warmth and automatically got rid of his jacket. He watched Mycroft pouring drinks and bringing them over.

“Here you are, DI Lestrade. Or would you prefer me calling you Gregory?” Greg looked up and realised how close he was. He wondered what was going on.

“Greg is fine, Sir.” He didn’t dare to call him Mycroft regarding his position. Mycroft smiled. He liked Greg’s attitude.

“Now Greg, just tell me what was happening at your house. I assume your wife finally left you?”

“Right to the point then … OK, yes, she left me today. We fought earlier and she admitted that she had been cheating on me. She told me she didn’t love me anymore, that she will take the girls away from me. She also threatened to milk all the money out of me.” He swallowed. His throat became narrow and he felt a certain burning behind his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of Mycroft Holmes. No way he would.

“I am sorry to hear that. I could help, if you let me, you know? So, she won’t be able to take the girls away completely. And of course, the milking part.” Now Greg looked right into his eyes.

“Why would you want to help me, Mr Holmes, Sir? Tell me why, please?” Mycroft poured new drinks.

“I have been interested in you for a very long time. I like you a lot. I have been waiting for this to happen. Now it is my turn. I want you.” Greg almost choked on his drink. Famous Mycroft wanted him? Why?

“Why would you want me?” He finally asked the question. Mycroft shrugged.

“You are very attractive, good looking in a special way and you have beautiful big brown eyes.” Greg downed his drink and didn’t know what to reply to that. He just leant back in his armchair watching him.

Mycroft finally moved closer and sat on the armrest. He bent down and brushed his nose over his neck and throat. Greg just let him. In fact, he liked that. He felt power radiate off of Mycroft Holmes, also warmth and want. He smelled of a very expensive after-shave and whiskey. It was a turn-on.  
Mycroft used two fingers to turn Greg’s face so he faced Mycroft again.

“Look at me, Gregory.” And Greg looked up.

“Do you want me?” He could just nod. They stared into each other’s eyes for almost a full minute until Mycroft moved his fingertips over Greg’s face.

“Well then, Gregory. Do you trust me?” What kind of question was that? But Greg didn’t hesitate.

“Yes, I do, Sir.” Mycroft smiled and nodded.

“I want to show you something. Please follow me.” They both got up and Greg walked behind him reaching the next floor. Mycroft opened the door of a room at the end of the aisle.

“Have a look and tell me what you think about it.” Greg stepped over the threshold and gaped. It was a fucking play-room. It had a wooden cross, a saw-horse, a four-poster bed and some other pieces of furniture, Greg didn’t want to think about right now.  
He also saw bundles of ropes, hooks, cuffs, and stuff lying about. He felt his member swell. He felt himself start sweating. He licked over his lower lip and didn’t know what to say.

“Are you averse of doing such things?” Greg turned around and just shrugged.

“I have no idea, Sir. I never have done such things. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am totally inexperienced.”

“Then we should discuss my kinks now. Let’s sit on the bed, shall we?”

“I don’t want to be a slave!” Suddenly Greg’s stance hardened and he stood right there his lips tightly pressed together. Mycroft laughed.

“Jesus, Gregory, what kind of prejudices do you have? I have kinks and I want to play. I do scenes. I would like you to participate. Just tell me what you think except not wanting to become my personal slave?”

“I am sorry, Mr Holmes, Sir. I only saw all these things and it was the first thing which shot right into my head. I didn’t mean to insult you.” He looked at him and saw him smile. He sighed.

“As I said before, I have never done such things. What I know now is that I want to be with you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. I like you. I think you just have to try things with me, so we can find out what’s good or not.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t harm you.” The smile was almost predatory. But when he took hold of Greg’s hand, he very slowly coaxed him to sit on the bed with him. Both of them leant against the headrest. Mycroft kept holding his hand when he started to talk.

“I like my partners to be submissive. I like using toys on them. I usually use some sort of bondage equipment. I want you tested, so I can fuck you without a condom. I probably will whip or cane you. I prefer you have an enema before our scenes.” He stopped when he sensed Greg’s uneasiness. He carefully watched him.  
Greg wouldn’t look at him. Instead, he stared down on their entwined fingers. Mycroft gently squeezed his fingers. Finally, Greg turned his head to face him.

“This is an awful lot to digest. I won’t deny that I am aroused by thinking of being with you. But I am so not sure about the way you want it.”

“That’s fine, Gregory. We will start slowly. I will show you everything.”

“I really want to stay …” His other hand found their entwined, too. He was trembling and grit his teeth. He still looked into Mycroft’s face and he returned the gaze.

“Gregory, I really hoped it would work out well. But I couldn’t imagine this. I am very, very happy.”

“Really?” Mycroft chuckled.

“Yes, really. Why does it amaze you so much?” Greg shrugged.

“Because it’s you, I suppose.” Mycroft looked a bit clueless.

“Because it’s me. What does that mean?” Now it was Greg’s turn to chuckle.

“Oh dear, I know where Sherlock got it from.” Both of them smiled now and Mycroft brought his face close to Greg’s. He moved his nose over his face and inhaled.

“I want to kiss you.” His lips hovered very close to Greg’s mouth.

“You don’t have to ask for this. It’s fine. I want you to kiss me.” Mycroft growled and tugged his hair to get him closer.

“I will teach you proper behaviour later …” Just mumbled words Greg really didn’t register. Instead he felt Mycroft’s lips being pressed on his. His tongue pressed into his mouth and he just opened up. He could hear his panting and relaxed. He was wanted again. Somebody wanted him, liked him, and even kissed him. He held on to Mycroft’s jacket clutching at the fabric. He closed his eyes when he felt his tongue moving over his teeth and gum. He very much fucked him like this.

Suddenly Mycroft moved and was straddling him. He towered above him pressing him against the headrest. He could feel Mycroft’s prick against his groin. His own was rather hard by now, too. Somehow, he felt a bit embarrassed to be aroused by that.

“Stop thinking, Gregory!” Mycroft quietly said and Greg opened his eyes again looking up.

“Distract me more!” Mycroft really looked surprised now.

“I like my partners cheeky; you know? There won’t be consequences for now. But I will take your advice.” And he pressed his palm on his groin pressing down. Greg moaned loudly and right away bit on his lip to suppress the sound.

“No, no, no, don’t. I want to hear you. You are very responsive. Just go on. This room is soundproofed and we are all alone anyway.” Now Mycroft started to rub over his swollen dick and Greg made loud and very wanton noises. Mycroft continued with the kissing. He started to suck his tongue and bit his lips. He made him moan. Greg’s hands desperately clutched the sheets by now. His hand moved around Greg’s neck and held him close. His other hand opened his belt and zip. Greg didn’t resist after Mycroft gave him some seconds to do so. Mycroft reached into his boxers and took out his cock. He was leaking already. He gave it some strong strokes and rubbed his thumb over the head.  
Greg’s head bumped against the headrest and his body jerked. His hands were fisting the sheets. Mycroft’s hand left his head and moved behind his back. He found what he was looking for. He waved Greg’s handcuffs right in front of him. Greg just looked and nodded.

Mycroft very skilfully closed them around his wrists with only one hand. His other wouldn’t leave Greg’s cock. Greg’s hands were made into fists on his lower back. He felt his guts coil. Mycroft kept kissing and stroking him and it made him lose his mind. When he was close, he opened his eyes.

“I am close …” Barely heard but Mycroft pressed his fingers around the base of his cock.

“No, you are not, Gregory. You will come when I tell you to or when I allow you to come.”

“What?” Surprise shone in his big brown eyes. The scene had obviously begun because now his testicles were pinched through the fabric and he almost squeaked. Mycroft let go and with one swift move pulled him down so he was on his back. The handcuffs were pressed rather painfully against his wrists and into his back but he didn’t care. His cock hung out of his pants and he felt terribly filthy leaking on his trousers. Now Mycroft began to button down his shirt. As soon as he was done with that, he rubbed over Greg’s nipples and licked around and sucked and bit them alternately. Greg was soon a whining mess beneath him.  
Jesus, he had had no idea how good this was. How could he have missed this his whole fucking life? He tried to get closer to Mycroft but was pushed down again.

“No!” He was told and obeyed. Mycroft held him on the edge for what felt like hours by now. Greg was sweating and panting. He looked up at him licking his lips. His cock was trapped in Mycroft’s hand. He smiled down at him.

“I think you know what to do, Gregory.” Well, he wasn’t that stupid, was he?

“Please let me come, Sir!” Mycroft gave him a stroke.

“Well done, Gregory, well done. I would like to hear some more. I need you to be more accurate, more detailed. Also, I want to hear full sentences all the time and a proper honorific, too. Do you think you can manage?” He raised his eyebrows never stop touching him.

“Please, Sir, please! I desperately need to come because I am hurting so much. Please, I need you to touch me, Sir! The only thing I need is you right now, holding me, kissing me. Please, Sir, please let me come!” Greg was panting and very close to shedding tears by now. Mycroft saw that and didn’t want to exaggerate at the beginning. He had gotten more from Greg than he had anticipated.

“Well done, Gregory, I am proud! You will be rewarded.” He continued to stroke him faster now. Finally, he moved between his legs and spread them. He pulled his trousers and pants down a bit more so he could reach into his pants to touch his balls. Greg’s breath hitched and he jerked again. Mycroft fondled his balls, too. The pleasure was intense and Greg was suffering from tunnel vision by now. He bucked up by instinct, but his balls got pinched. Greg couldn’t help it. His balls pulled up, his guts coiled and he came violently all over Mycroft’s hands and clothes. His cum spurted quite far and he rode his orgasm for what felt like several minutes. And when he was back, he looked up at a very smug-looking Mycroft Holmes.

“Fuck …” Greg roughly said. Mycroft grinned.

“Fuck indeed.” Greg couldn’t but look at the very prominent bulge in his trousers. He cleared his throat.

“Do you want me to do something?”

“Have you ever sucked cock before?” He shook his head and was too embarrassed to look into his eyes.

“No, I haven’t, I am sorry. But you could tell me, instruct me, what to do?” Fingertips were suddenly on his jaw.

“Yes, I could do that.” He pulled him up and off the bed where he told him to kneel. His wrists were still cuffed behind his back and throbbed quite a bit. But so was his cock again and he didn’t mind. His knees right away started to hurt, but he didn’t mind either. Instead, he just looked up feeling his trousers slide down his hips.

“You look like a fine slut, Detective Inspector, you really do.” Greg blushed all crimson.

“I am sorry. I lost weight. I …” Mycroft laughed and petted his head.

“I like it, don’t worry! You are utterly sexy like this!” That made him look up again.

“Really?” Mycroft nodded.

“Really!” Then he stepped closer and opened his trousers. Greg’s eyes became big when he saw the size of Mycroft’s member. It would never ever fit into his mouth. Never. Ever. And he wasn’t only thinking about his mouth now.  
Mycroft’s dick was leaking and he gave it some strokes. He slowly moved the head over Greg’s lips.

“Handle it like an ice-cone.” This was a rather good advice and Greg started to lick around the head and suckle it. He finally opened his mouth and sucked a bit. He also remembered the women who had once given head to him.  
Mycroft stood with his arms hanging down and his hands into fists. It was always fantastic being given head by a novice. But Greg seemed to be a natural. He found the vein running through his cock and licked and pressed. He even pressed his tongue into the slit. Mycroft looked down and was very impressed. He had been right about Greg. He was a submissive by nature. And he even liked him, wanted him. He had sexed him up quite successfully. He could still do it. Telling somebody in a studio what to do wasn’t the same. He would pay for their services and leave afterwards. But he wanted Gregory to stay with him.

At first, he had thought of just kidnapping him and force him into this. He had talked to Anthea about it and she had declared him crazy at once and told him what to do. And she had been right. He would buy her a rather nice present tomorrow.  
Then he started to think of what he would do to Gregory next time. And then he came into his mouth. This hadn’t been his intention and he was worried at once. But looking down on him he only saw lust and concentration on not spilling too much. He swallowed everything he could and didn’t even gag or cough. He was swaying a bit though.

„Well done, Gregory!“ He praised him and the questioning look disappeared from his face. He proudly smiled not feeling so self-conscious anymore. Then he got petted on the head again. Mycroft pulled him up and made him take off his shoes. He got rid of trousers and pants. Then their eyes met again and Mycroft roughly whispered:

“I want you, Gregory!” Greg just swallowed and slowly shook his head.

“I never had a man before. I can't now, I can't. I am awfully sorry, but I ...” Now he started to cry. Mycroft saw the frightened look on his face. He probably was thinking, he would kick him out now. Or simply take what he wanted. He soothed him at once.

“It's fine, Gregory, I understand. I want too much at once. Don't worry, I can wait. I want you to stay, I want you to be with me. Do you?” In the meantime, he had pulled him up again and had taken the handcuffs away. He gently massaged his wrists while talking.

“Aren't you disappointed?” He gently palmed his face and looked into his troubled eyes.

“No, Gregory, I am not disappointed. I have something to look forward to.” And he smiled and kissed him. Greg was still trembling and looked a bit off. Mycroft hugged him.

“You have to come down. How about a drink and a bubble bath?” Greg had his arms around Mycroft's waist and just sighed his approval. Mycroft took him back into the living-room and placed him into an armchair handing him a drink.

“Thank you ...” He had to hold the glass with both hands. Now Mycroft started to worry a bit and he sat on the armrest.

“How do you feel?” Greg looked up.

“I am not sure. I don't know. I am exhausted.” He sipped the drink.

“Are you disgusted? Do you want me to take you home?” Greg looked into his glass and quickly downed his drink. Then he looked up at Mycroft and his arms shot up. He pulled him down and Mycroft was totally surprised. He landed in Greg's lap who kissed him hard and dirty.

“How could you think that? I consented. I had the fucking best time ever! It was just a bit too much.”

“I was worried about you ...” Mycroft was in a position he rarely was to be found in. He was looking up to someone.

“I just wanted my first time with a man, my first time with you, in a different way. I need some time to prepare. I want it to be good.”

“I won't hurt you, Gregory. I never said it before to anybody. But I want to make love to you!”

“I look forward to that, Mycroft. Now, where is my bubble bath?” They both smiled and Mycroft heaved himself up.


	2. Meeting the Family

“I want you to meet my brother, Gregory.” They were having breakfast in Mycroft's town-house.

“You know, I already know Sherlock?” Greg grinned.

“Officially. I never told him. Did you?” He shook his head.

“No, I didn't. But he would know anyway, don't you think?”

“I am not sure. Since he is after this army-doctor, he won't pay too much attention.”

“You mean, he wants John? I thought they were only flatmates?”

“Sherlock still is a virgin, Gregory. He has no idea of sex. He has feelings. The way he looks at Dr Watson says everything. Only the poor little thing won't realise. He is chasing after women, when instead he could have my willing brother.”

“We have to do something then.”

“That's why I asked you to meet my brother.”

“Why didn't you say so in the first place? Oh no, I know ...” He smiled.

“We will be meeting in our family estate in Devon. Sherlock hates it, but I will tell him to invite Dr Watson. It will be his chance to advance. And Dr Watson already knows you and won't be feeling too weird.”

“Not until he meets you, love.” Mycroft tilted his head.

“He did meet me before. I think he hates me.”

“He probably thinks you are after Sherlock.”

“Sherlock told him I was his arch-enemy.”

“What? Why?” He nonchalantly shrugged.

“Because I asked Dr Watson to spy on Sherlock for money.”

“And you were surprised when he said no, right?”

“He wasn't the least bit afraid of me.”

“You approve of him. That's why you allowed him into your brother's life.”

“You know me well, Gregory.” Smiles were exchanged again.

“What's the occasion to go to Devon anyway?” Greg finally asked.

“Mummy's birthday.”

“There will be more family then?” He sounded a bit worried and Mycroft grinned.

“None as threatening as Sherlock or me. Q is abroad. He is the youngest. So, you don't have to meet his lover.”

“Why wouldn't I want that?”

“Double-0 agent.”

“Oh ...”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I will face your mummy and Sherlock and John. He is a nice guy. Whenever I meet him at crime scenes, he is very helpful.”

“Perhaps we can help them?”

“Help them to do what?”

“Help them to find each other? Show them their love?”

“You know, I think you are right. I never realised Sherlock liked John. But I saw John looking at Sherlock. He clearly likes him, but he denies his attraction to him, to men in general. We have been to the pub several times.” Now Mycroft looked up.

“What? Why don't I know?” Greg shrugged.

“It's not important, isn't it? Or is it you being jealous?”

“Maybe?” Mycroft looked at him from down below his eyelashes.

“You know, you don't have to. I love you!” Greg smiled at him.

“Perhaps we should invite them over for dinner before we will be driving to Devon?”

“As a warming up, you mean?” Greg tilted his head.

“Not good?” Mycroft wondered.

“No, not at all. I like having John around. And I would like to meet Sherlock in private. I can cook?”

“I could have ordered takeaway?”

“No, not for an occasion like this.”

***

Mycroft tried to call his brother but he hung up on him. Then Greg called John and invited them over. John had no idea why they were invited but he assumed some celebration because he knew that Greg was seeing Mycroft. He placed his phone back on the coffee table and looked over to Sherlock who tried to fake reading the paper. In fact, he was holding it upside down. John smiled. Then he sauntered over and picked the newspaper from Sherlock’s hands. Said one looked up.

“I am not going!”

“Why not? It’s nice. You like Greg and so do I. And I am curious.” Sherlock snorted.

“About what? Their relationship? I don’t want to watch them sticking their tongues into each other's mouths that evening. Thank you very much.”

“Your brother is way too polite to do such things and you know it. I will be going. With or without you.” Now Sherlock looked at him.

“You would? Why?” John seriously looked at him.

“Because I like Greg. He is my friend.” Sherlock chewed on his bottom lip making John almost feeling high.

“I consider him a friend, too.”

“Promise me, you will behave.”

“I am not a child, John.”

“Sometimes you are.”

***

John took care of Sherlock dressing up nicely. Not that he ever wasn’t but he knew what he was capable of when wanting to fight with his brother. He stood by Sherlock’s side in front of the mirror in his bedroom.

“You look very nice, Sherlock.” Their eyes met in the mirror and Sherlock for once took in John’s appearance because he had realised that he looked different. But the only thing he could think of saying was:

“Where is your jumper?” John smiled a bit lopsided.

“It will be a nice dinner in your brother’s townhouse. I know you hate my jumpers. I thought I …” Then he just shook his head and wanted to leave. But Sherlock stopped him.

“Don’t. I like it. You look very nice, too.” John stopped and turned around again.

“Do you really think so?” He looked into the mirror again and saw Sherlock nodding over his shoulder.

“Yes, I do. It suits you.” John wore a black denim and a black V-necked jumper. It hugged his body. His loafers were black, too. And he had his hair slightly mussed up with wax.

“Let’s go then. Please don’t spoil it, Sherlock? If you won’t do it for your brother, do it for Greg?” Sherlock smiled.

“I do it for you.” But he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he just nodded and left his bedroom following John. They rode over and John held a paper bag with a bottle of wine. Sherlock had picked it and John was very careful with it because he didn’t want to drop booze worth of more than 40 pounds. The cab stopped in front of Mycroft’s place and John gaped.

“Keep that impression on your face and my brother will love you.” Sherlock muttered making John grin. It was Greg who opened the door and John hugged him handing over the bag.

“Thank you. Come on in. Sherlock, hallo.” Sherlock never knew what was appropriate, so he just stood there.

“Greg.” Greg just hugged him, too. He felt how tense he was but didn’t mind. He just knew him.

“Where is my brother? Already at the table?” He snickered moving forward into the house. Greg and John just followed him and found Mycroft in the library filling tumblers with drinks.

“Sherlock, brother-dear. Welcome!” He handed him a drink and didn’t even try to touch him. Sherlock knew that John wanted him to play nice. So, he acted after it.

“Thank you, Mycroft.” Surprised Mycroft raised a brow but didn’t comment. He handed over another glass.

“John, welcome to my place.” John took the tumbler.

“Thank you, Mycroft. What’s the occasion?” Greg was handed a glass, too. He cleared his throat.

“We would like to tell you something.” John looked from Greg to Mycroft and back having no clue at all. Sherlock really couldn’t believe it and looked over John’s head at his brother.

“Greg will be moving in with me. We are together. We are in love. I love him.” Mycroft smiled a bit shyly but pulled Greg close. John was absolutely surprised but was also happy for Greg. He knew they had a thing going but he hadn't known it was that serious.

“That’s great news! Congratulations, Greg and Mycroft!” He raised his glass and looked at Sherlock who looked at his brother. His face was absolutely empty but then he forced up a smile.

“Yes, all the best to you two!” John wondered what was wrong with him but soon dinner was ready. John followed Greg into the kitchen to help.

“How did all this happen?” Greg smiled a goofy smile while opening a bottle of wine. And then he told John about the evening he rode over to Mycroft.

“I never would have guessed.” John slowly shook his head.

“Of course not.” Suddenly there was Sherlock eyeing the simmering food.

“You knew?” Greg asked him.

“I saw him looking at you for a very long time. So yes, I knew.” John just shook his head and carried the bottle and glasses into the dining-room. Sherlock still looked at the cooking dinner and finally, his eyes came to rest on an apple-pie. Unconsciously he licked his lips looking forward to devour a piece after dinner.

“Sherlock?” He didn’t look up.

“Yes?”

“Do you approve of this? Us being together?” That made him look up.

“Greg, you don’t need my approval to be with my brother. Just don’t let him devour you completely. You know what I am talking about.” Greg blushed a bit.

“Yes, I do. And we already had that talk.” Sherlock left the kitchen when his brother showed up. He went to find John who was looking at the tons of books in the library. For a few seconds, his eyes roamed over his body from behind. He found that he liked very much what he saw. He sneaked up behind him and suddenly whispered close to John’s ear.

“Dinner is about ready.” John jerked and quickly turned around pushing himself against Sherlock’s body.

“Jesus, fuck, Sherlock!” He closed his eyes and exhaled raggedly. Sherlock felt his compact body against his own, felt the warmth radiating off of him.

“Come on, John!” He just turned around and left. John stared after him, his mouth still open. He was half hard.

“Fuck …” He whispered and carefully adjusted his pants and trousers. Only then he followed Sherlock.

Greg noticed his flushed face and the smug expression on Sherlock’s. So did Mycroft. But neither said a word.

***

Dinner went smoothly and John watched very surprised when Sherlock devoured everything Greg had placed before him. Sherlock looked at John and swallowed. Then he looked at Greg and smiled. And then he explained.

“Greg knows what I like. He cooked this mainly for me. I lived with him several years ago. He invited me into his home after he found me in a drug den. He helped me get clean and it was an ugly business. His wife hated me. And him. But he let me stay.” John looked at Sherlock. He had known about the drugs but he hadn’t known about his time with Greg. Greg had never said a word.  
Sherlock looked at his plate. He didn’t look at John. He was worried now that John wouldn’t like him anymore.  
Mycroft looked at John and sensed something. He wanted to talk to him, so when dinner was over, he just stood.

“John, may I have a word with you? I need your opinion on something military.” John stood and nodded.

“Of course, Mycroft.” They left for his office and Greg started to clean the table. Sherlock joined him. He was curious.

“Did you really agree to my brother’s wants?” Greg looked up and smiled.

“If you are talking about his kinks, yes, I did. It was new. But I liked, like, it.” He blushed again.

“Sometimes he tends to exaggerate. Please stop him then, don’t be shy. Don’t ever think you have to do things because you love him. Promise me!” Greg looked at Sherlock now who looked worried.

“Are you worried about my well-being?” Sherlock only nodded and Greg came around the counter and pulled him close.

“Thank you. I know what to do when it gets too much.” Sherlock stayed tense but murmured:

“OK then.” Greg let go.

“What about you?” Sherlock sipped his wine.

“What about me?” Greg once looked over his shoulder but they were still alone.

“John. He likes you a lot. Do you like him?” Sherlock swallowed the rest of his wine.

“John isn’t gay.”

“I have been married to my wife for almost fifteen years and have two children. So?”

“I can’t risk losing him.”

“So, you do like him?” Sherlock just nodded.

“I happen to know that he likes you, too. Everybody can see that, the way he looks at you. He adores you.” Sherlock snorted.

“Why would he?” Greg grinned.

“Just be brave. Try to seduce him at your family’s estate. Do something nice for him.”

“Like what?” Greg shrugged.

“You are his best friend. You should know what he likes.” Sherlock just looked at him. He had no comment to that statement.

***

In the meantime, Mycroft and John sat in Mycroft's office. John expectantly looked at him and Mycroft realised he hadn't understood the real reason for this. He sighed but only inwards.

“John, I will be blunt. You like my brother. My brother likes you. Even I can see that. You look at each other when you think the other doesn't see. Be brave, be a soldier, and make a move.” John glared at him.

“I am not gay.” But it didn't sound right.

“Yes. Sure.” Mycroft gave a little snort, something he normally never did.

“Gregory and I will be joining mummy's birthday party. Sherlock will show up, too, and naturally, you will be his company. Please, take that opportunity. He will need your help there. Otherwise he might spoil the whole thing. With you present though, he won't.”  
John lost his tension and slumped into the armchair in front of Mycroft's desk.  
“I am in love with him for quite some time. But after his “married-to-my-work” speech I never tried anything.”

“He was just scared back then. Will you join him for the event?” Mycroft asked leaning forward.

“Yes, Mycroft, I will. Is it very official?” He dared to ask. Mycroft smiled pleasantly.

“Dress uniform will fit nicely, I think. Don't forget the medals and such I know you store inside your desk.” John blushed.

“I don't even know if it still fits.” John muttered.

“I know. Sherlock will freak out and eat you alive.” Mycroft grinned like a shark when John became beetle red.

“Sherlock doesn't seem interested in a sexual relationship.” John finally murmured.

“Only because he has no idea of sex. He still is a virgin, John.” John stared at him.

“He is a very special man. He never liked being touched, not even by his closest family. He is different, we all know that. But around you, John, he is the man I always saw deep inside.”

“Well, Mycroft, you are giving me hope. There were signs but I ignored them because it just couldn't be. I promise to join him for your mother's birthday. What kind of present are we supposed to bring?” He stood straight up again like waiting for his orders before going into battle. Mycroft leant back into his chair.

“You are with my brother. Don't worry about anything else.”

***

“What is my brother doing to my flatmate, Lestrade?” Sherlock asked staring at the fire.

“They are talking. What do you think?” Greg grinned.

“I don't know what to think.” Sherlock replied and topped up his drink. Right then John and Mycroft returned. Sherlock gave John a once-over and the scrutiny was rather obvious. Greg looked at Mycroft who just nodded. Sherlock seemed to be OK with whatever he saw because he handed John another drink.

“Thank you.” John took it and his fingers brushed over Sherlock’s. Their eyes found each other and John saw his dilated pupils. Perhaps Mycroft had been right after all. He would give it a try. He would try to seduce Sherlock Holmes.


	3. Formal Dinner Attire

John had just picked up Sherlock’s suit and his dress-uniform from the dry-cleaner. Now he sat in a cab and rode home. Both items were carefully arranged on his lap and he looked forward to meeting Sherlock’s mother. They would be picked up by Mycroft this afternoon and ride together. Tonight, there would be just a get-to-know each other. Sherlock knew it would calm John down. Greg didn't need to be calmed down. He had just shrugged when Mycroft made him see his tailor to get formal attire. Plus, he had already been there and met mummy. The cab arrived at Baker Street and John paid giving a generous tip. He was in a good mood. He carried the suits upstairs and kicked the door open.

“Sherlock, I am home!” He called out because the living room was empty.

“John, quickly!” Sherlock shouted from the bath. John just dropped the suits on the sofa and on his way shrugged out of his jacket. He dashed inside and stopped dead. Sherlock turned to face him. He was naked except for his trousers. His hair was in disarray and a brush stuck in it. There were tears on his face.  
John was torn between pity and a laughing-fit. He couldn't decide right now because he was busy getting his cock under control.

“Sherlock, are you injured?” He asked instead. Sherlock pointed up.

“It's stuck. It won't come back out.” At first, John handed him a tissue to blow his nose.

“OK, please sit on the toilet lid and I will have a look.” Sherlock plonked down and hopefully looked up at John.

John tried to find a position where his crotch wasn't that close to Sherlock’s face. And after he had found it, he carefully used his fingers to pull at tiny strands of hair. He was a doctor and had cut into injured soldiers under dire circumstances. His calm and patience were endless when it came to things like this and he fully concentrated on the task at hand. Literally.

Sherlock in the meantime just sat there looking at John from every angle his head was gently tilted. He was able to smell John. He was actually very, very close to him to be able to count the metal fragments of his zipper. He swallowed and shifted on the lid.

What the fuck happened to him right now? The feeling in his guts was weird. Had his spine ever tingled like that? And what about his penis? Why became his pants so tight? This was frightening.

John thought about the soft hair he was able to touch for the first time. He didn't want it to be the last, he really didn't.

“Does it still hurt?” He asked.

“My scalp is still burning a bit, but not too bad anymore.” Sherlock quietly replied. John hummed and it sounded pleased. He took his sweet time pulling single hairs out of the brush and while doing so he also used other fingers to gently rub over Sherlock’s scalp. After a few minutes Sherlock’s eyes slowly closed and he sighed while exhaling. He was completely relaxed.

John carefully leant his body against the sink by his side so he wouldn't fall off the toilet-lid. He smiled and kept rescuing Sherlock’s precious hair. After several more minutes, the brush was free and he placed it on the sink. He took a wide comb of Sherlock’s and moved it through his hair until there were no more entangled strands. Sherlock’s hair was still a little bit damp when John finished his work by moving his thumbs over his cheekbones.

“All done, mate.” Sherlock blinked his eyes open and looked at John.

“You are a saint, John.” He smiled and gingerly touched his head.

“Never mind. It was my pleasure.” Sherlock kept looking at him and now tilted his head. John blushed.

“Anyway, I still need to pack and so should you. We have one hour left until we are picked up.” He fled the bath.

Sherlock finished his styling and chose a shirt and socks. He also started to pack not one bag but three. One bag only held his bathroom-products. He had also changed his suit and John's uniform into new leather travelling-cases and shed the plastic from the dry-cleaner. He met John in the living-room. There was one ruffled looking bag and nothing else but the uniform. Sherlock raised a brow but refrained from commenting. He had already organised more clothes for John and they had been sent to the estate already. Mycroft had approved and even gave the money. He would have no choice but to accept them being at his mother's place.

Outside a car was honking and they looked at each other.

“Come along, John.” Sherlock snatched the two leather-cases with their suits and dashed downstairs which left John with the four bags. He glared at them for a few seconds but then just locked their door and followed Sherlock. A black sedan was parked directly on the pavement. Greg sat behind the wheel and Mycroft was on the passenger seat. A soft click was heard and the trunk opened. John placed the bags in there and the suits came on top. Only then he really saw the leather-cases and raised a brow.  
Sherlock already sat in the car and fastened his seat-belt. He seemed to be almost excited and John wondered why. In the past, he had always tried to find excuses so he wouldn't have to see his mother.

“Hello everyone.” John sat down, too, and fastened his seat-belt.

“John, Sherlock, I am glad for once you made it in time.” Mycroft said not even turning his head. Sherlock snorted.

“Where is your protection-detail, brother-dear?” Sherlock asked.

“In another car behind us.” John raised a brow and looked at Sherlock. Greg started the car and smoothly entered the traffic on Baker Street. It took them quite some time to leave London but finally they drove over country-roads. John actually enjoyed the ride and looked at the scenery outside. Sherlock looked bored but didn't try anything. Greg obviously had fun driving the sedan and Mycroft kept typing on his mobile like a mad man.

“Bathroom-break!” Greg announced all of a sudden and everybody jerked and was back in the present. He parked the car beside a well-known fast-food restaurant and killed the engine. Mycroft just looked at him and Greg shrugged.

“I am human, you know?” He smiled and got out of the car followed quickly by John. Sherlock looked at Mycroft and he nodded. They left the car, too, and walked a few steps away. Mycroft pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered. Greg and John disappeared inside.

“They will take some time because Greg will buy something to eat.” Mycroft said inhaling with pleasure.

“I know. John will bring something for me. He knows I like the sundae.” He smoked with joy, as well. They were done when Greg and John returned with bags. John raised a brow and shook his head. Sherlock eyed the bag and then again looked at John.

“Yes, I bought you a sundae.” John sighed and handed it over.

“Even though you haven't earned it.” He chided him. Sherlock looked at him and carefully placed the ice on top of the car.

“Then keep it.” He sounded angry and moved back into the car. Greg wanted to follow him but was held back by Mycroft.

“John, please don't treat him like a child.” He said. John cast his eyes and knew he had overstepped. He picked the sundae from the roof and sat beside Sherlock closing the door.

“I am sorry. I know you are a grown-up and I shouldn't have said that. Please, eat your sundae. It's melting already.” He offered it back to him. Sherlock didn't acknowledge him for a few seconds but finally took the ice. He wouldn't look at John though.

“I am simply concerned about your well-being.” John added. Still, there was no reply. Sherlock finished the sundae and only then looked at John.

“I know that, John. But it didn't feel right, your behaviour towards me. I am not another soldier you are supposed to order around or even some submissive who craves to be ordered. So, please don't do that to me.” John paled considerably.

“I didn't mean to order you to do something, Sherlock. I never would. Please, accept my honest apologies.” They locked eyes and Sherlock knew he was serious. And he nodded.

“Apologies accepted. Now, may I please have a wet wipe? I know you are carrying them around.” John smiled and handed one over.

***

“OK, they are done. Let's go.” Mycroft said and opened the car. Greg just shook his head and climbed back behind the wheel.

“Please clean your hands. You are all greasy.” Greg leant toward Mycroft as if to kiss him.

“Go away!” He even pulled a face and both Greg and John laughed. A wet wipe was handed over from the back.

“Thanks, mum.” Greg said grinning and John hit the back of his head. Sherlock watched the action and wondered what was going on. Greg and John were in such a good mood and he didn't know why. But anyway, John and he were good again. Perhaps he had overreacted a bit but it just hadn't felt OK what John had said. Actually, Sherlock knew that John would never harm him in any way, verbally or bodily.

He felt quite warm again when only thinking about the way John had handled his hair just hours ago. He had been so gentle and after he was done, he had caressed his face. It had felt so wonderful. Sherlock didn't realise that he must have stared at John because suddenly he became aware of John's shining blue eyes who stared right back at him. Quickly Sherlock cast his eyes and pulled his mobile out of his jacket. John looked away again, too, but he felt that something had just happened. Something good.

“We have arrived. Everybody up and alert, please. Sherlock, behave. John, keep close to him. Gregory, follow me.” They all glared at him but the moment the car had stopped in front of the stairs he was outside already.

“Fuck you...” Greg muttered and Sherlock grinned.

“What the fuck?” John murmured and Sherlock turned his head toward him.

“Never mind him. He is just worried that mummy won't approve of him or us, our behaviour.” Outside Greg did follow Mycroft who had already turned and waited impatiently for him. Right then a butler opened the door. John just stared when getting out of the car. He decided to just follow Sherlock who would know what to do.

“Leave the bags, John, there are people responsible for that. Come along!” John hurried after him.

“Mr Holmes, welcome back.” Mycroft was greeted politely and he nodded.

“Wilson, it's good to be home again.” There even was something like a small smile on his face.

“Mr Holmes, the younger. It's good to see you.” The man now smiled and so did Sherlock.

“Wilson, I am glad to be here again.” Now he turned towards the other two men.

“Dr Watson, or do you prefer your military rank, and DI Lestrade, welcome to you, too.”

“Dr Watson is just fine. Thank you, Wilson.” John replied with a friendly smile.

“Yes, thank you.” Greg added. John thought it all weird but his face didn't show anything. Sherlock already disappeared deeper into the house and John quickly hurried after him.

“Wait!” He hissed quietly and Sherlock looked over his shoulder.

“Mummy is not yet ready. We will wait in the library and have a drink.” Sherlock said.

“Sounds good to me.” John said and they entered the place where the books lived. John looked around. He was in awe. Sherlock already sat in an armchair and gestured for John to take the opposite. It took a maid only a few seconds to appear.

“Mr Holmes, Dr Watson, what would you like to drink?” She looked from Sherlock to John. Sherlock ordered a whiskey for the both of them because he knew John didn't like this. John had never been in a home where maids with a bonnet in their hair served drinks or tea or whatever. He already wondered about dinner. He wondered even more about tomorrow's party. He wasn't really scared but he already knew he wouldn't like it.

“You will be great tomorrow, John. They will envy me. Mummy will love you.” Sherlock whispered and John focused back on him. He had no idea what to say. Right then Mycroft and Greg entered the room.

“Yes, she will.” Mycroft said and sat down, too. Greg nodded. He had already met mummy and was relaxed in here. The maid returned with drinks for all of them. Beneath every tumbler came a tiny napkin. There was an extra bowl with ice-cubes. By the cube hung a tiny silver thingy to take the ice with. John didn't want to use it in case he broke it. No one spoke until the maid was gone again and left with Mycroft's thanks.

“Our rooms are ready. Naturally, we all have separate rooms but Greg and I have a connecting door. Sherlock, your old rooms are ready. John, your room is opposite of Sherlock’s. Dinner tonight will be at seven sharp. Please, don't be late. Sherlock, don't get lost until then. You can have a look at the hives and the horses after tomorrow.” Mycroft seriously looked at him.

“Yes, brother-dearest.” Sherlock pleasantly smiled and he could have said _Fuck You_. John grinned and so did Greg. They finished their drinks and Sherlock stood.

“Come along, John. I'll show you to your room.” John instantly stood and followed. Mycroft and Greg stayed behind and looked at each other.

“Obviously, Dr Watson doesn't like this.” Mycroft said.

“No, he doesn't. He grew up in a poor family. He never had a lot of money. He studied medicine while being in the army. The army was his way out, you see? The money he earnt he sent home.” Greg explained.

“I never checked his family background. I only ever read his army-files to see if he was appropriate to move in with my brother. Why do you know all this?” Mycroft asked.

“Because John became my friend and we go out to his local. He told me because he always wondered about Sherlock needing a flatshare with all his cards and clothes and products. John is not stupid. He was happy to have found Sherlock but he also was suspicious. So, this here is the proof for his feelings.”

“Probably I have to ask mummy to not tell him about the title or he will freak out.” Greg laughed.

“To hear you use the word freak out is just hilarious. And he won't freak out because he can cope with everything.”

“Yes, his discipline is amazing. Living with my brother must be a challenge.”

“You can say that...” Greg looked thoughtful and sipped his drink.

“We still need to change for dinner. Let's use the time we have to be alone.” Mycroft smiled and they went upstairs, too.

***

John stood inside his room and was in awe. The bed was amazing. It actually was a four-poster and his windows looked out over the front. The carpet was soft beneath his feet and the bath was a revelation. Sherlock had shown him everything and pointed out his bag and suit having been brought upstairs.

“Sherlock, you know I don't have anything to change into for dinner tonight.” John looked confused and a bit sad.

“Open the wardrobe over there. And don't get mad at me, please.” John looked at him and opened it. There were several pairs of trousers, dress shirts, and jackets as well as shoes. Polished shoes, actually.

“What have you done?” He asked looking over his shoulder. Sherlock shrugged.

“I took the freedom to purchase several articles of clothing for you. I knew they were needed. I also knew you didn't have them. Please, don't be angry with me?” Sherlock looked actually a bit stricken as if afraid John would do something really stupid like storming out like he sometimes did at Baker Street. But he simply looked sad. He lowered his head carefully closing the wardrobe. Then he sat on the bed and buried his head in his hands.

Sherlock didn't know what to do. He had never seen John like this. But yes, he had. Once when he got the message that his sister was back in rehab again and getting a divorce from her wife because of her drinking habit. John had cried back then. Was he crying now?

Slowly Sherlock moved up close and tried to look at his face but it was still hidden. He decided that John needed a friend and sat down on the bed, too.

“John, please, look at me?” He quietly said but didn't get a reaction. He tried to recall what John had done when he had been crying because of Anderson and Donovan having been mean to him. John had comforted him, had sat with him, and had actually held him.  
Sherlock carefully reached out and slung his long arm around John's shoulders. He pulled him close and against his body.

“John, please, don't. I don't know what to do.” Sherlock whispered. It took a few seconds until John just pressed his head against him. His arms came around Sherlock’s torso and his grip tightened. And he cried. Sherlock felt his tears soaking through his shirt. But there were no sounds.

Sherlock decided to simply hold him. After a few minutes, John moved back again and Sherlock let go. His face was blotchy and red when he looked up at him.

“I am sorry I caused you so much pain. I didn't mean... I mean I only meant well.” Sherlock was absolutely helpless.

“I know that, stupid. It's just too much. I never expected... Why...” He sobbed and Sherlock looked for tissues. They were on the nightstand and too far away. He didn't want to let go of John.

“John, you have to get a grip on yourself. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Please, I need you to get cleaned up and dressed. Otherwise, mummy will torture you.” John laughed and his shoulders shook. Finally, he stood.

“I will take a shower now. Very quickly. You chose a suit for me. Please, don't go away.” John looked at him.

“I won't. Go.” Their hands parted and Sherlock finally sighed. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction. But he thought he had managed it quite well. He listened to the noises coming out of the bath while he chose something to dress into for John.  
John returned and only had a towel around his hips. Sherlock swallowed and just pointed toward the suit. John nodded and Sherlock turned around. He listened to the rustling of clothes and only turned back when John cleared his throat.

“Perfect.” Sherlock stated when looking at John.

“Really?” John felt strange in these fine fabrics. Sherlock stepped up and stood behind him in front of the mirror.

“Yes. Really. You look perfect. Please, don't feel bad about this. You can shout at me later and storm away. It's all fine.” Their eyes found each other over the mirror.

“What? No!” John exclaimed. Sherlock relaxed and checked his watch.

“It's time. Let's go. You'll do fine.” Sherlock smiled. John straightened up and nodded.

“Thank you so much.” Both men smiled and finally left to attend dinner.

***

Greg and Mycroft had taken their sweet time. They had kissed and wildly snogged and got each other naked. But Mycroft's inner clock stopped them from doing more. They got dressed and looked very much presentable.

“I wonder if John made it.” Mycroft mused.

“Made what?” Greg asked.

“Sherlock knew what was expected of us back here. He also knew John wasn't able to provide proper clothing, so he provided.” Greg glared at him.

“Are you telling me, that Sherlock bought clothing for John and didn't tell him? Fuck, you could have told me and I could have warned him.”

“Sherlock will manage.” Mycroft was convinced.

“I do hope so. Very much so.” They left Mycroft's rooms and walked downstairs. The actually found Sherlock and John already present in the drawing-room waiting for mummy. Greg looked at John and smiled. And John smiled back. Greg relaxed but glared at Sherlock who in return glared at Mycroft.

“Everyone has assembled. Good evening, gentlemen.” A voice called out and they all turned around to face famous mummy.

“Mummy.” Mycroft said and carefully hugged her. She once gently touched his face and turned to Sherlock.

“Mummy.” She looked longer at her youngest but finally smiled.

“Sherlock.” They hugged and her fingers were in his hair.

“Now introduce me to your friend.” She demanded looking at him. Sherlock swallowed and looked at John who slowly came closer.

“Mummy, please meet Dr John Watson, former army Captain and now my flatmate.” He very much wanted to take his hand but didn't reach out.

“Mrs Holmes, it's a pleasure to meet you.” John bowed slightly and she held up her hand for him to take. She didn't twitch at the Mrs but she also knew that he didn't know.

“Welcome to my place, Dr Watson.” She smiled at him and saw her son relax. Then she turned to Greg.

“Gregory, you are back again. It's good to see you.” She hugged him.

“I am glad to be back again, mummy.” He smiled and pecked a kiss on her cheek. Both Mycroft and Sherlock tensed but she just tutted at him.

“You are such a charming one, Gregory.” She even giggled and led the way into the dining room. They all sat down and John wondered about all the plates, cutlery, and glasses. Mycroft was placed beside John and opposite sat Greg with Sherlock and mummy sat at the head of the table. John was able to watch Sherlock handle everything and just copied. The food was excellent and even Sherlock ate from every dish being served. John relaxed after the first dish and felt much better.  
After dinner, they retired into the library where more drinks were being served. John was offered mummy's arm and was allowed to lead her into the library. He felt like being chosen and Mycroft looked even pleased. They talked about John's practice, Greg's job, and Mycroft's minor position. Sherlock just looked at mummy and she tilted her head. Nothing was mentioned about Sherlock and it was all fine.

She retired rather early and everyone stood. Mycroft accompanied her upstairs and only when they had left the room Greg and John obviously relaxed and slumped into their armchairs. Even Sherlock relaxed and desperately wanted a cigarette.

“Yes, me, too, Sherlock.” Greg muttered but Sherlock looked at John.

“I am not making the same mistake twice. Please go and have a fag. I don't mind.” He just said and Sherlock disappeared outside with Greg leaving him behind. John just enjoyed his drink. He had survived dinner with mummy and it hadn't been too bad. They sat in the library for a while but soon after Mycroft and Greg left and went to bed. Sherlock smirked and even John grinned. Then they were alone in the library. They looked at each other.

“Mummy liked you, John.” Sherlock said looking at him.

“I liked her, too. And I really want to thank you for providing the clothes. It was for the best.”

“I am glad to hear that. I only meant well...” Sherlock whispered.

“Before we retire, would you mind showing me your old rooms?” John asked looking at Sherlock.

“Sure. But why would you want that?” Sherlock asked and John just shrugged. They stood and slowly walked upstairs. Sherlock opened his door and invited John inside.

“Here we are. My old rooms.” John entered and had a look around. There was another four-poster, a desk with a chair, several carpets topping one on another. There was a sofa and an armchair in front of a fire-place. It was wild and messy. It was very Sherlockian.

“I like it...” John said looking at him.

“Really?” Sherlock asked wondering why.

“Yes, this is you. Absolutely you.” John replied.

“That's why you like it then?” Sherlock asked quietly and John turned to face him.

“Yes, that's why I like it.” He smiled and slowly moved up. They stood in front of each other.

“I realised you liked my hair.” Sherlock whispered.

“I like even more than just your hair.” John replied carefully reaching out for his hand.

“I liked you like my hair. It felt strange but good.” Sherlock said quietly.

“What do you want now? Right now?” John asked and saw him swallow.

“I once saw Greg kissing my brother. It looked like they enjoyed doing it. I never did. I mean, I never kissed anyone, not even at uni. No one... Whatever. I would like to kiss you.” Sherlock's voice was rough by now.

“Kiss me then because I would like to kiss you, too.” John replied. They kept looking at each other. Sherlock worried his lips and thought about how to approach. Finally, he stepped up and lowered his head. He placed his hands on top of John's shoulders and his lips made contact with John's.  
John closed his eyes when Sherlock's lips touched his. These full lips with the cupid bow. His large hands on his shoulders. He slowly lifted up his hands and placed them on Sherlock's hips. Their bodies slotted together and John felt Sherlock's erection. Sherlock was actually hard against him. John couldn't suppress a groan and Sherlock's lips parted.  
John tried and used his tongue very carefully. The grip on his shoulders tightened. They kissed and it became wet and sloppy. Finally, they parted again and looked at each other. Sherlock licked his lips.

“That was... That was enlightening.” He panted.

“It was much more than that.” John replied.

“I feel weird...” Sherlock said and at once John looked worried.

“Like being sick?” He asked taking his wrist and feeling for his pulse. It was racing actually.

“No, like when you saved my hair. I felt warm and my spine tingled.” He looked at John.

“It's called arousal.” John stated all smile and he kept holding his hand.

“I liked the kissing just now...” Sherlock whispered looking at John. Very much undignified John stood on his tip-toes and kissed Sherlock. Sherlock's arms moved down to John's hips. John's hands and fingers found their way into Sherlock's hair. They moved closer together. They kept touching each other until John finally asked for permission.

“I want to touch your bare skin...” Sherlock could just nod and John started to open his shirt. One button after another was opened until his hands were able to move over his naked chest. There were no hairs and some ribs were visible. John had seen his bare chest already.

“You are so beautiful. Your skin is soft and like marble.” Sherlock blushed.

“May I touch you, too?” He asked.

“Of course. Go ahead.” John said and Sherlock very slowly opened John's shirt.

“You are still tanned. You are so broad and have so many muscles.” Sherlock actually poked into his skin and it made John laugh.

“I want to see more of you. I want to touch more of you.” Sherlock moved toward the bed and John let him.

“You have to undress me further then.” He invited him to do so because he knew Sherlock needed that. And Sherlock did. His nimble fingers undid John's zip and belt. He pulled his trousers down. Afterwards he simply undressed himself. He climbed into bed and pushed the blanket down with his feet. John followed suit and dared to place his palm on his flat stomach. Both men wore only their boxers.

“I have never been with a man...” John murmured admiring Sherlock's pale skin and body.

“I have never been with anyone...” Sherlock replied and their eyes met again.

“I believe I am in love with you, Sherlock Holmes.” John whispered caressing his face.

“I know I am in love with you, John Watson.” Sherlock rubbed over John's flat, muscular stomach.

***

Mycroft went through his bathroom-routine while Greg had another drink and looked out of the window. He heard his lover climb into bed and turned around.

“I'll be right with you.” Greg smiled and went to brush his teeth. He also ruffled through his hair before he returned. He jumped into bed and smiled his boyish smile. Mycroft smiled back and pulled him close.

“Come here...” He said and Greg huddled against him. He wondered if Mycroft wanted them to have a scene.

“No. I just want to have you.”

“You are reading my mind.”

“Sometimes?” Mycroft smiled and started to touch him. Greg fully relaxed beneath him.

“Do you think John and Sherlock, I mean, ...” Greg sighed.

“Yes, they will. Don't worry about them. It will work out.”

“How do you know?” Greg asked.

“Latest after tomorrow's party, after Sherlock will have seen John in his dress-uniform, they will devour each other.”

“You are impossible.” Greg laughed.

“I was taught by the best.” Mycroft laughed as well and slung his long arms around Greg's body pulling him close.

“What do you need?” Greg asked.

“Nothing but you.” Mycroft replied and surprised Greg a bit.

“I thought...” Greg whispered.

“Only if you need...” Mycroft replied. Both men stared into each other's eyes.

“No, I will enjoy just being held by you. I love you, Myc, whatever you provide, whatever you do. Always.”

“I will always love you. Being tied up in my bed at home or like this just in my arms, I will always love you.” They kissed for a long time.


	4. Mummy's Party

Sherlock and John didn't do anything that night except for touching and kissing. But Sherlock did look extremely pleased and John was simply happy. When they finally rested on the pillows and breathed John became nervous. Sherlock turned his head.

“What's wrong? Would you like to stay in your own bed?” He quietly asked. John quickly turned his head.

“No! God, no. It's just tomorrow's party. I am nervous. I will look weird in my uniform.”

“Utter nonsense! You will look splendid. And very sexy. Plus, you won't be the only person in uniform.”

“I won't? Now I am really nervous.” John swallowed.

“I probably shouldn't tell you then about royalty, should I?” Sherlock said.

“What?” John sat up against the headrest and glared at Sherlock who stayed put.

“Yes, there will be Lords and Ladies present. In fact, there already are a Lord and a Lady present.” It took John a bit until he finally understood. There was only one woman present and he had called her Mrs Holmes. Meaning, since there was no father, Mycroft was Lord Holmes. It actually explained a lot.

“You should have told me. I could have paid the proper respect to your mother.” John said.

“She loves you anyway.” Sherlock smiled looking up at John.

“I didn't tell you because you wouldn't have come if you had known before. You would have found some excuse and stayed home.” John sighed.

“Yes, you are right, of course. But I would have missed this.” John smiled, too. His hand found Sherlock's hair and carded through it. Sherlock closed his eyes in delight.

“Come back down and I will hold you. You need your sleep.” Sherlock whispered. John moved down and Sherlock slung his long limbs around him. John actually became the small spoon with big spoon Sherlock behind him. He quickly fell asleep feeling Sherlock's heart beating against his back.

***

Sherlock though was wide awake and simply enjoyed holding John to his chest. He felt him breathing and smelled his scent. He touched his hair. He only slept for a few hours later.  
John woke because he needed the loo. Sherlock somehow had become an octopus overnight. Very carefully John disentangled and moved out of bed. He quickly went through his bathroom-routine and found a dressing-gown hanging on the door. He needed to get into his room and find something proper to dress into. There were preparations to be made today and he wanted to make himself useful.  
He looked at Sherlock whose body was now spread all over the bed. He looked at him with only one eye open.

“Where are you going and why? It's too early.” He muttered half into the pillow.

“I need to find fresh clothes. Then I will bring you coffee.” That statement made Sherlock sit up.

“No, you won't bring me coffee. Come back here and we talk some more, please?” John raised a brow but nodded. Sherlock used the time John needed to get dressed and went into the bath, too. He quickly showered and brushed his teeth. He looked at his swollen lips and gingerly touched them. He smiled. He dressed into his normal attire and was ready when John returned.

“Tell me why I am not allowed to bring you your coffee? You normally like it.” Sherlock looked at John who wore a pair of black denims and a t-shirt. His feet stuck into slippers without socks. He found it strangely appealing.

“John, there are people responsible for bringing coffee in the morning. You just ring the kitchen and tell them what you want.” John's eyes moved to the phone and his lips tightened.

“We could have a private breakfast?” Still, there was no reply coming from John. Sherlock started to feel sick.

“John, please, don't hate this too much? Don't hate me?” Sherlock's voice faded into the room and John's eyes opened wide.

“What? No, Sherlock, I don't hate you. Come here, please?” He opened his arms wide and Sherlock hurried at once.

“I know you don't approve of this lifestyle but it's only for a few days. Back home you can bring me coffee and tea and cookies.” He murmured into John's neck.

“I will cope, I promise. It was just a bit too much. I didn't mean to scare you or give you the impression that I don't like you or whatever you thought.” John replied holding him tight.

“Would you like to have a private breakfast? I promise to eat. We could sit outside?” Sherlock suggested and John actually liked that. They broke apart and Sherlock held John's hand.

“Let's go and find us a place. I will arrange breakfast.” He let go and left the room with John on his heels. John just accepted the fact that their closeness was over for now. But it wouldn't be for long. He followed him outside on the terrace where several tables stood. There were sunshades over two and Sherlock chose the one furthest away. At once a maid appeared.

“What would you like for breakfast, Sirs?” John just sat down and left it to Sherlock.

“Dr Watson would like to have a full English and for me the usual, Beth. Thank you.” She nodded and left. Only a few minutes later she brought coffee and tea. John threw himself on the coffee and poured for Sherlock, too.

“What about your brother and Greg?” John asked looking around. Sherlock shrugged.

“My brother will be in his office. It was our father's office and he took over when he... when he died several years ago. Greg will probably sleep in. He likes to do that if he has the chance.”

“You know him well, don't you?” John wondered sipping his coffee.

“Yes, I do. He was the first friend I ever had. At first, I didn't realise that. I didn't understand why he let me stay with him or why he cared so much. The concept of friends was too alien for me.” Sherlock didn't look at John.

“I understood you were dangerously drugged and he found you?” Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, if he wouldn't have found me, I would have died in there. It actually was my intention, you know? He called an ambulance and Mycroft arranged a detox facility. It wasn't good and I didn't like it. I hated it. We agreed then that I could stay with Greg. He had suggested it as a last chance. He promised to let me work with him if I behaved. So, at first, he brought cold cases home when I was a bit better. I solved them all. He brought actual cases home and I solved these, too.” In John's head was Sherlock's second sentence on repeat but he didn't react to it. Not yet anyway. He didn't know how and he let it go. Instead, he simply continued with the topic of Sherlock staying with Greg.

“How did you do it? You weren't outside.” John topped up their cups.

“I was on Greg's sofa. I had a notepad and a few pencils. It was enough.” He nonchalantly shrugged.

“The sofa was my room back then. I even stayed longer than absolutely necessary. His wife hated me but I didn't mind. I didn't see the problems I caused Greg.” The maid rolled a tea-trolley up to their table and John wanted to stand but got kicked under the table. He stayed put and she placed everything before them.

“Your full English, Dr Watson. And the usual selection for you, Sir. Enjoy!” She smiled and left.

“Thank you, Beth.” Both men called after her. John eyed his plate.

“God, I really need this.” He muttered and started to eat.

“But you already ate a lot yesterday.” Sherlock said and slowly devoured his omelette.

“Yes, but this is soul-food.” Sherlock clearly didn't understand. He drank more coffee.

“Since when are you eating oranges?” John suddenly asked looking at a smaller bowl with slices of orange.

“I only eat them peeled. Completely. I don't eat the skin. They do it here for me.” He shrugged.

“You could peel them yourself and eat them at home, too.” John smiled when saying that.

“Tedious.” Sherlock replied. With their last cup of coffee, they both stretched out their legs and looked over the lawn.

“Look, there is Greg.” Sherlock pointed out someone on a horse.

“I had no idea he could do that.” John looked closer.

“I taught him when I introduced him to mummy.” Sherlock said.

“You introduced him to mummy?” John asked.

“Yes.” Sherlock smirked and ate the last piece of orange.

“Do you think we could find a horse for me, as well?” John suddenly asked and it surprised Sherlock.

“You can ride?” He asked.

“I learnt it in Afghanistan. Of course, only with a blanket and rope for reins. But I always enjoyed it.” John shrugged.

“Well, of course, there is a horse for you, John. But I didn't buy you riding-gear. You will have to improvise.” He gnawed on his lower lip.

“I don't need riding-gear. I just get rid of my shoes and go.” He grinned happily and Sherlock knew he wouldn't be able to deny him the fun. He already felt bad enough and so he just nodded.

“Well, come on then. Let's find you a horse.” They walked over the lawn and toward the stables. The place was huge and there were many horses as well as many people who cared for them. Sherlock was greeted very friendly; people here all seemed to like him.  
“Do you have a horse in here?” John asked curiously.

“Yes, I have. Look over there, that's mine. His name is Rigoletto.” The horse snorted when hearing his name. Sherlock stepped up and reached out for the horse. It snapped after his hand and Sherlock laughed.

“I know, my lovely, I have been absent for far too long. I am sorry.” He pressed his face against the horse and now he got nudged. John had paled a bit but now saw it was all fine.

“What do you think, John? Do you want to try it?” Sherlock offered.

“What? This one? No, no way. This is yours. He won't even let me close.” John shook his head.

“Look, Rigoletto, my beautiful. This is John. He is my friend. He is even more than just that. See?” Sherlock touched John and pulled him close. The horse snorted and stomped on the hay. But he kept looking at John who carefully reached out for him.

“Here, bribe him.” He handed over several sugar-cubes he had taken from the breakfast-table. John took one and placed it flatly on his hand. Rigoletto slobbered over his palm and nudged him again. John fell back against Sherlock.

“I think he wants more.” Sherlock said laughing. John gave him one more and then nodded.

“I will try it. I trust you with finding a proper doctor and hospital if needed.” John said taking a harness from the wall.

“John, please don't say such things. It scares me.” Sherlock chided and made a step back to give him room. Rigoletto allowed John to place the harness around his head. John also took a blanket and threw it on his back. Then he led the horse out of the stable followed by Sherlock.

“You are really going without a saddle, aren't you?” Sherlock said staring at him.

“Yes, that was the way I was shown it back in Afghanistan. They gave me riding lessons in exchange for treatments such as helping with giving birth and such.” Sherlock looked at him and clasped his hands in front of his chest.

“My hero...” He exclaimed and swayed on the spot. John laughed out loud. Sherlock could be funny if he so wished. John pulled himself up and Rigoletto moved on the spot. He adjusted his hold of the reins and pressed his thighs around the horse. Sherlock stepped out of the way when John made the horse move. At once they quickly trotted away and Sherlock looked at them. Soon enough John ran over the fields behind the stable.

“Is that John on Rigoletto?” Mycroft stood beside Sherlock.

“Yes, he needed some confidence. He doesn't feel good here. He is, in fact, scared of everything.” Sherlock replied.

“You told him?” Mycroft asked and Sherlock just nodded.

“Do you remember what happened when you first brought Gregory here?” They looked at each other.

“Little Lord Fauntleroy he was.” Sherlock said and the brothers giggled. Mycroft looked over his shoulder and then pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Sherlock sighed and took one.

“Mummy will kill us.” He said.

“She isn't up yet.” Mycroft replied and lit their cigarettes. They inhaled deeply and Sherlock sighed.

“We need to calm them both down because of tonight.” Mycroft said.

“John will hate every single second.” Sherlock replied.

“He will stand out. He will be in full gear and it will make him feel secure and self-confident. There will be a few military people present whom I might have told about Captain Watson taking part in several ops they made happen.”

“Hm.” Sherlock hummed.

“Plus, there is Gregory. He is officially my partner now and accepted by most of our guests. If John watches him having fun, he will further relax.” Mycroft sounded convinced.

“I hope you are right.” Sherlock said thoughtfully.

“Your brother is right all the time. Mostly.” A voice said from behind and they both stilled. Sherlock swallowed and closed his eyes.

“Mummy, good morning.” Mycroft and Sherlock said turning around and greeting her politely.

“Brush your teeth. It will cost you both.” She smirked and both men accepted their faith. Now they all watched Greg and John racing back towards the mansion.

“Anyway, you two made the perfect choice.” She looked pleased and Sherlock beamed at her.

***

John had found Greg on the fields racing like a maniac. Both men looked at each other and grinned.

“Sherlock did find the right way to calm you down, didn't he?” Greg said and his horse moved on the spot.

“He sure did. Everything here doesn't feel right to me but I'll cope. For Sherlock, I cope.” He replied.

“Listen, the first time I was brought here by Sherlock I felt small, very much so. But everyone was just kind to me, especially mummy. And when I returned with Mycroft, I became part of this family. I have reached as far as into the kitchen by now and they don't throw me out anymore. Cook even told me I did them bloody good.” John laughed.

“So, there is still hope?” He asked and Greg just shook his head.

“Let's go back. Mummy will want to talk about tonight.” They trotted back and returned the horses. They were both sweaty and quickly showered again. They found the Holmes family in the library with more tea.

“Good morning, mummy.” Greg greeted her and pecked a kiss on her cheek. She smiled warmly.

“I had the chance to watch both of you riding. It looked very good, John.” Both Sherlock and Mycroft looked at her and seemed to lose a bit of tension.

“Good morning. And yes, Sherlock allowed me to ride Rigoletto and it was amazing.” His eyes were still bright blue and showed the excitement. Mycroft noticed John leaving out the proper address but didn't react. In fact, no one did.

“Very well. Now we need to talk about tonight. Since I caught both of you smoking, again, you will have to pay. Sherlock, you will be dancing with Lady Rosalyn.” Sherlock looked absolutely shocked.

“But mummy, she is...” She just held up her finger and he snapped his mouth shut.

“You, Mycroft, actually Lord Holmes, will have to talk shop tonight. There are certain rumours I need to know more about.” Mycroft bowed his head.

“Yes, mummy, certainly.”

“Gregory, my darling boy, you will host Lady Beaumont tonight.” Mycroft's mouth opened but closed right away again. John watched everything and recognised it as the punishment it was, both to Sherlock and Mycroft. But Greg didn't seem to mind.

“Oh, I surely remember her.” He smirked.

“And John here, our darling Captain, will be taking care of me tonight.” John looked at her and couldn't really believe it.

“It's an honour, Lady Holmes.” He bowed and she beamed at him.

Suddenly outside were noises and shouts for help. Something crashed to the ground and Mycroft at once shielded mummy. John and Greg just rushed inside and found a servant on the floor gasping for breath. The maid knelt by his side and his body shook wildly shook but his lips were already rather blueish.

“I am a doctor, let me.” He sat kneeling down. He opened his collar and felt over his neck. A wasp fell out.

“Sherlock, my bag. Quickly!” Sherlock raced upstairs without any questions and retrieved John's medical kit. The servant's heels hit the floor in the futile attempt to get air into his lungs. The maid cried and Greg led her aside. Sherlock was back in no time and placed the bag already open by John's side. Without looking John reached inside and retrieved the allergy syringe. He rammed the needle into the servant's upper thigh and pressed down. He took his pulse and waited. Several seconds later he inhaled deeply and coughed. Colour returned into his cheeks and he closed his eyes.

Two minutes later an ambulance team arrived and took him away. Sherlock cradled the bag against his chest and proudly looked at John. Mummy took his hands.

“Thank you, John. He certainly would have died because the ambulance took too long.” John shrugged.

“He is allergic and probably hadn't even known. He will be checked through and return in no time.” John smiled and patted her hands. Doctor mode, Sherlock recognised.

“Well, what else do we need to talk about?” He asked changing the topic. Mummy was approving of John; Mycroft could see that clearly. He was a pro.

“Very good. The first guests will arrive in the afternoon at about three o'clock. They are the less important people. The later it gets the more important our guests are. There will be a garden party first followed later by dinner and dance.”

“This will give me at least a few hours with John before Mylady arrives.” Sherlock's voice leaked acid.

“Come on, Sherlock, you can practice wargames. Whoever else gave you such returns as her last time we were here?” Greg said laughing.

“Are you suggesting I take it as a game?” Sherlock asked looking at Greg.

“Of course, I am! She is after you and she knows you don't want her, not even to fake anything. She hates you. You will be having a splendid evening.” Greg grinned.

“Don't encourage his horrible behaviour, Gregory.” Mycroft chided.

“But he is right.” Mummy said. John glared at Sherlock.

"Both your wardrobes for the afternoon and dinner-party are being brought to your rooms. Mycroft, I want you to check on the arrangements outside. Take Gregory with you. Sherlock, you will check security for the last time. Take John with you. I expect everybody ready to greet the guests at three o'clock sharp. A small lunch will be served in the dining room for us at half-past one. If I am needed, I will be in my office now.” She turned around and left. The brothers visibly relaxed.

“Please return my bag, Sherlock.” John quietly said and Sherlock slowly loosened his grip on it. John took it from him and cleared his throat.

“Well, it seems we are free until lunch. I would like to walk outside for a bit. Are you coming along?”

“I need to check on security. So, if you like to follow me to the gates, we can walk there instead of taking the car.” Sherlock suggested and John simply nodded.

“Yeah, let's do that. I'll just return my bag.” Sherlock looked at John when he climbed back up the stairs.

“We do normally know such things as allergies, don't we? Plus, who was he anyway? I haven't seen him before.” Sherlock looked thoughtful. Greg suddenly looked alerted when listening to Sherlock.

“You are right, brother-mine. I will check the arrangements outside and everything else regarding the dinner-party and dance. Gregory, by now you know most of the people I will talk about and you heard mummy. Please, follow me.” Greg sighed but followed him. Sherlock stood at the bottom of the stairs and waited for John. A few minutes later they walked down the path toward the front gate. Their bodies almost brushed but didn't. Sherlock felt John was too far away and turned his head to look at him. He met John's eyes who smiled at him.

“It's only for the time being, love.” John calmly said.

“I do know that, John. But still it doesn't please me.” Sherlock replied.

“Let's check the perimeters and whatever you are supposed to do and return to our rooms. Perhaps we can find a few minutes for us.” John suggested and Sherlock at once walked a bit faster. John jogged by his side but he was used to it. Sherlock checked through the plans, checked who was on duty and where and how many. He looked at the guest-list and finally they went to the second gate at the back. Standing back in the hallway again, Sherlock stopped John from going upstairs.

“Wait, I need to check on that servant. Something bothers me.” John didn't question Sherlock and simply followed him. Sherlock entered Mycroft's office and powered up his computer. He clicked through the personal files of all the employees.

“There he is. Look, John. He is new in here.” He pointed on the screen and John lowered his head close to his.

“Tell me why you are suspicious about him?” He asked turning his head. His face was very close to Sherlock's.

“He replaced someone else as a personal servant for the dinner-party. It means a perfect behaviour plus insight on the medical file. So how could we not know about the allergy?” Sherlock wondered.

“Perhaps he really didn't know himself?” John asked but Sherlock shook his head.

“No, in a job like his, they are checked through regularly, including allergies. No, something isn't right.” He started to type quickly and John stood straight up again. He knew better than to ask.

“Hah!” More wild typing and finally he stared at the screen leaning back in his chair.

“Look, John!” John looked and read three names. The entry dates were all the same. They looked at each other.

“This is so not good...” John said.

“I agree. We need weapons and find these people.” Sherlock stood.

“Contact your brother. Someone needs to shield your mother.” John said.

“No, not yet. They are not after us. They are after the more prominent guests tonight. We still have time.”

“We better be on the safe side. Arm yourself, Sherlock.” John sounded serious and for once Sherlock didn't talk back.

“I'll show you the weapon's storage.” John nodded and Sherlock led the way after powering down the computer.

“Now we need to tell your brother and Greg. They need weapons, as well.”

“I already texted him. There they are.” Mycroft and Greg entered the room and Greg closed the door.

“What's up, Sherlock?” He asked and Sherlock explained everything. Mycroft looked serious and reached for two weapons plus ammo.

“I'll see to mummy. Greg, you stay with Sherlock and John until I am back.” The gun disappeared beneath his jacket. Greg just nodded and accepted his order. Sherlock tapped his foot on the ground. He looked nervous. John reached out for his hand.

“You need to calm down, Sherlock.” He quietly said and tried to catch his eyes. He realised he was close to tears.

“Hey, beautiful. We will manage. We all will.” He whispered.

“This is my home, John. It always was my safe haven. Now it might be destroyed, people might get hurt.” Sherlock looked sad.

“You have to be strong. There are lots of innocent people here. By now we have one and a half hours left until the first guests will arrive. Everything has to look normal.” Greg explained. Sherlock exhaled.

“OK, we will wait for Mycroft and then get dressed for the first part. Casual garden party style.” He snorted. Right then his brother returned.

“I have talked to mummy. She is calm and will appear on time to greet the guests. Everything will start as planned. Greg, you will stay in the background with John and walk the perimeters outside. I will now brief the head of security.” They parted and got dressed. Sherlock looked everything but casual, John thought looking at him. Sherlock liked John looking at him. At first, it had bothered him because he had thought something wasn't right. By now he had finally understood that he simply liked looking at him.  
Sherlock was also still pleased with his choice of clothing for John. He slowly approached him and stood behind him in front of the mirror.

“Where is your gun?” He asked and John lifted his jumper.

“You have bought a jumper for me.” He said all smile. Sherlock blushed.

“Yes, I did.” Luckily John had no idea what this special piece had costed. He would never have touched it.

“John, I know both of us will be busy from now on and we won't have the chance to spend time together. And...” John just turned around and pulled him into his arms.

“I know, I know. But it can't be helped. Just promise me to be extra careful. Don't run after some suspect alone, do you hear me?” John pressed him tightly against his muscular body and Sherlock closed his eyes.

“You very well know I can't promise such a thing, John. But I promise to be extra careful.” John sighed.

“Where is your gun hidden?” He asked patting over Sherlock's body. Sherlock opened his jacket and there it was inside a special holder so his suit did not bulge. John was impressed.

“Very good.” He checked the time.

“Let's go. I'll take Greg and we start to walk. Your brother and you will be with mummy and welcome your guests. If Mycroft is right, we'll all be safe during the afternoon garden-party.”

“Yes, he believes the three are after the more prominent guests, such as royalty. But we can't be sure, can we?”

“You think your brother is actually wrong?” John asked.

“Without knowing anything about these people we can't know what they want. They could as easily be with some criminal organisation and want to kill me or Mycroft.” He shrugged.

“How long will Anthea need to check?” John asked.

“It already takes too long.” Sherlock replied. They still embraced each other and Sherlock lowered his head. John tilted his head in return and they kissed. Sherlock felt his cock stir and John's grip tightened.

“Later.” John murmured against his lips and they parted. John turned and walked over to the door.

“Wait, John.” Sherlock called and stood still on the spot.

“I can't go out like this.” He pointed at his crotch where his prick strained against the fabric of his slim-fit trousers.

“I couldn't help it. It just happened.” Sherlock looked stressed but John smiled and came back.

“If I am going to help you, we won't leave this room. So, you have to do it yourself.” John whispered roughly.

“Do what, John?” Sherlock sounded desperate.

“Get to your balls and pull them. Then it will go away.” John said and Sherlock quickly did what he said. He hissed and bit his full lips but his erection went poof.

“This is unacceptable.” Sherlock murmured and John grinned.

“No, this is naughty.” He once slapped his arse and Sherlock jumped.

“Later.” Sherlock replied licking his lips. After he had quickly washed his hands, they finally left their rooms.

***

Downstairs Sherlock joined Mycroft and mummy at the door to greet their guests. John and Greg started to walk casually around the grounds.

“Did Mycroft hear from Anthea?” John asked.

“He got several texts and emails but didn't say anything. This normally means there is nothing worth telling.” Greg replied.

“Did you look at the guest-list?” Greg nodded.

“Royalty. Politicians. Rich people. Old money. It could be everyone.” Greg said.

“But Mycroft thinks they are after royalty. What do you think?” John asked.

“I don't know. This is rather outlandish...” Both men grinned. They walked a circle and came back to the garden where the first guests lingered with drinks and snacks. John and Greg stayed inside the shrubbery and watched.

“Actually, I prefer me being hidden to me mingling with this bunch.” John muttered and Greg looked at him.

“I got used to it. At first it was strange but soon I was accepted. There are several gay people around and it made it easier.” He shrugged it off.

“Luckily, Sherlock isn't meant to represent the family or only rarely.” John murmured.

“No, he normally only appears for mummy's birthday or Christmas dinner. But he always sees her when she is in London. He deeply loves her and she misses him a lot.” John locked eyes with him.

“She doesn't stay with Mycroft though, does she?” John asked.

“No, she has her own place in Kensington. In comparison, Mycroft's place looks like a shed.” Greg grinned.

“What have I gotten myself into?” John asked into the sky and shook his head.

“Love, I suppose.” John smiled and they kept watching.

***

Mycroft and Sherlock stood by mummy's side when the guests arrived. Servants led them into the garden. When everyone for the afternoon had arrived, they followed and started to mingle. Sherlock hated every second but did his duties. Soon he was surrounded by several men and women who wanted to hear about his adventures. After a few minutes, he had the flow going and charmed them all. He wanted mummy to be pleased. He wanted John to be pleased.

Mycroft talked to several politicians and business-people. These were serious talks but he also got what he wanted. Mummy lingered with her old friends and they sat around a large table. There was laughter and lots of memories.

After Greg and John had circled the party several times Greg sighed.

“Let's go and join our loved ones.” John just looked at him but got pulled along. Greg walked him over to where Sherlock stood in the middle of a bunch of laughing people. He looked over their heads when John approached with Greg and an honest smile came up. It was visible that this was real and a few heads turned.  
John straightened his body and his whole stance changed. John changed and the people parted before him. He saw that Sherlock was happy to see him. But he also saw that Sherlock didn't know how to introduce him. That's why John beamed up at him and simply took his hand pulling him close.

“What are you up to, dear?” His voice was loud and clear.

“Having fun without you, John.” Endearments weren't his forte but his voice said it all. People looked at them and then just started to talk again. Everything was just fine and John felt Sherlock relax. He pressed his hand but didn't let go.

“Who are you then? Cousin Sherlock never told us about you.” A woman talked to John who clearly looked like a Holmes somehow.

“John Watson, I am Sherlock's mate. Flatmate, too.” He politely shook her hand.

“Oh, that's you! I love your blog!” She exclaimed.

“Leave him alone, Stella. He is mine.” Sherlock almost hissed and John was quite a bit shocked.

“Yours? Surely this man isn't your pet!” She hissed back at him and John stood helplessly between them.

“Or do you usually chain him to your bed?” Now she even snorted. They were almost the same height and Sherlock glared at her.

“No, it's actually the other way around. And I prefer ropes. Cousin Stella, if you'd excuse us?” John politely said and pulled Sherlock away. The others laughed. Sherlock's cheekbones showed a shade of red and he simply followed John to a parasol a few metres away.

“Do you?” Sherlock asked looking at John.

“Do I what?” John was clueless, of course, he was.

“Prefer ropes to chains actually.” Sherlock replied and John simply stared at him for a few seconds.

“It was a joke to shut your cousin off, Sherlock. There is nothing to worry about.” John grinned.

“But it sounded real, like you were telling the truth.” Sherlock kept looking at him.

“Well, if I would be doing such things, I would really use natural material.” John said.

“John, you should know that since I am regularly using your computer and you never delete your browser-history, I know what kind of films you are watching.” Sherlock spoke without breathing and now he felt John tense.

“I know I shouldn't have looked further but...” Sherlock got interrupted.

“But what?” John coldly asked and let go of his hand. The cold reached Sherlock's body.

“But I went through your files. Pictures. Your cloud. And I saw. That's why I can't believe it was a joke.” John closed his eyes and breathed. His first reaction had been to storm off but he knew he couldn't do this here. His discipline helped now and he concentrated back on Sherlock.

“Sherlock, I have never talked to you about my preferences because I know you had a serious talk with Greg about him subbing for your brother. And why would I? You weren't interested in me.” Now he looked away.

“I am interested in you now.” Sherlock quietly said.

“You know that I would never do anything you don't want, right?” Sherlock's lips quivered.

“Of course, I know that. I trust you with my life.” Tears were welling up. John's eyes widened.

“What's your problem then?” John demanded to know.

“I was scared because I thought if I don't do what you like with you, you would leave again.” Sherlock whispered the words without looking at John.

“How can you think that? You should know me better than that.” John sounded disappointed.

“It's because everybody I ever knew except for Greg always left me because I did something a bit not good. I am talking from experience here.” Sherlock made a step back.

“I need to go somewhere quiet. Please don't follow me, John.” Sherlock turned away and left for the house. John didn't follow him.

***

Greg followed Mycroft through the groups of mingling people. But he saw Sherlock leave and John stay behind. He carefully touched Mycroft's hand and tilted his head. It earned him a nod and he excused himself from the group. He found John filling his plate and joined him at a table by the side just looking at him. John didn't react but ate. Only when he had finished his snacks and placed the empty plate on the table, he acknowledged him.

“What do you want, Greg?” John asked quietly.

“I want you to tell me what happened.” Greg replied.

“Sherlock overreacted after I have made a joke. Something came up, some angst, some fears, and he left to be alone.” John tried to explain without telling Greg too much.

“And you let him leave when we expect an attack? When there are strange servants in the house?” John looked up and swallowed. He had no answer to that question.

“Come on, John, we have to find him.” Greg stood and John followed suit. Before they left Greg sent a text to Mycroft who in return alerted the guards. They entered the house where it was absolutely quiet. They pulled their weapons and John pointed upstairs. Greg nodded. They climbed up the stairs. John first and Greg followed checking their back. They checked their rooms but Sherlock wasn't there. The stairs led further up. Halfway they suddenly heard a muted noise as if something had heavily fallen to the hardwood. They looked at each other. John's face hardened.

They reached the upper floor and by now heard footsteps on the hardwood. Greg held up one finger and John nodded. They slowly approached the room from where the noises came. The door stood a bit ajar. Greg gestured for John to wait and he raised a brow. He pulled out his mobile and typed something into it. John saw his eyes widen and his lips tighten. He held up the display and John bit his lips. There must be cameras in the rooms and now the display showed Sherlock on the ground. And he wasn't moving.

Steps approached the door and both men lifted their guns. One of the servants stepped out and Greg just lashed out with his gun. He hit the man's temple hard and he fell without making a sound. John caught him and they pulled him back into the room closing the door. Quickly Greg typed some more into his mobile while John secured the man and the door until Greg was done. Now Greg used parts of a curtain to tie up the not-servant. John hurried to Sherlock's side and knelt down. He felt his pulse and it was beating slow. His weapon was gone but John found it a few metres away after he had placed Sherlock on a sofa with his legs up on the armrest. He sadly looked at him.

“This is not your fault, John.” Greg whispered close to him. John didn't reply.

“What are we going to do now? We shouldn't break up and we can't just leave him here. And him.” He pointed at the man on the ground.

“We should gag him.” Greg suggested and John nodded. He ripped off his shirt and tore some pieces off. He forced his mouth open and stuffed a smaller piece inside. He used another part to knot it around his head. It was forced behind his teeth and went around his head twice.  
Greg swallowed and wondered if soldiers were taught these things before moving into battle.

“There are still two others we need to find. Can we somehow do that?” John asked.

“I sent a text to Mycroft. The guards are looking for them.” Suddenly John held up a finger and Greg closed his mouth. Then he heard it, there were footsteps approaching. Slowly and quietly. They grabbed their guns tight and Greg moved quickly to stand beside the door. John stood by Sherlock and shielded him.  
The door was carefully and slowly opened. A gun reached inside followed by a man clad in a waiter's suit.

“Ryan?” He whispered and entered the room. Greg smashed his gun on his wrist and it cracked. The man paled but didn't make a sound when he let go of the weapon. But despite the probably broken wrist he jumped at Greg kicking out. He was kicked into his guts and folded in the middle. He couldn't breathe anymore and stumbled a few steps back. The man followed. John couldn't really shoot because he was afraid to hit Greg. He secured his gun and jumped at the man from behind. His kick sent him flying over Greg's body and smashing into the wall.

“You OK?” He asked Greg who still held his middle.

“I am going to be sick...” Greg groaned and did exactly that. John had a closer look at the vomit Greg violently ejected but found no blood. He turned and wanted to join Sherlock again but he already stood beside him and simply stared at Greg.

“Sherlock? Are you feeling quite well?” John asked. Sherlock looked at John and his eyes teared up again.

“My head hurts. What's wrong with Greg?” He asked shifting on the spot.

“Greg was kicked in his guts. He will be just fine again in a few minutes. May I look at your head, please”? John made a hesitant step toward Sherlock.

“John, why do you even ask?” Sherlock whispered and sat down again. He looked on the hardwood while John carefully moved his fingers through his hair. There was a small wound and it had been bleeding but it had stopped by now.

“I would like to clean that up and disinfect the wound.” John said. Sherlock looked up at him.

“Do you have to cut my hair off?” His eyes were wide when asking. John just had to smile.

“No, I don't. It's not that bad. I am glad, it's not that bad.” John whispered. His fingers slowly moved down to rest on Sherlock's face. His thumbs stroked over his cheekbones.

“I am sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn't have gone alone. You have told me not to. But I needed quiet. I needed to think.” Sherlock looked sad. John shook his head.

“No, this is not your fault. I never should have left you. I shouldn't have made that joke to your cousin Stella.”

“I don't want you to be angry with me...” Sherlock roughly whispered.

“I am not angry with you.” John replied.

“You looked like being angry. You had that expression on your face you have when you are close to storm away.”

“You know me well. Do you also know that I would never hurt you?” Now Sherlock's hands came up and his fingers went around John's wrists.

“I know that, John. Let's join the party again, shall we?” He stood without letting go of him.

“We will in a few. But first we have to get rid of these two and tell your brother you are fine. I also need my bag to take care of your head.” In the meantime, Greg had entered the bath and washed out his mouth. He joined them.

“Let me have a look at you, Greg.” John said.

“I am fine. The nausea is gone.” John nodded but reached out anyway.

“What about your ribs? You are not standing up straight. Can you do that?” Greg tried but groaned and paled.

“OK, that's what I thought. Hold still.” John gently pulled the shirt out of Greg's trousers and his hands and fingers moved carefully over his ribs. Sherlock saw the bruises; they had a nasty dark shade. Greg hissed when John touched a certain part.

“You need to go to the hospital. This one might be broken. You need an x-ray.” John said and Greg sighed.

“Fuck...” He swore.

“I am so sorry, Greg...” Sherlock said and Greg looked up.

“This is not your fault, Sherlock. Don't worry.” He smiled. Right then Mycroft entered the room joined by two guards. He looked around and his eyes found Greg.

“What happened?” A simple question but both Sherlock and Greg looked at John. He straightened his body and explained everything. Mycroft listened and at the same time typed orders into his mobile. Then he moved over to Sherlock and looked at him. A quiet exchange took place after which Sherlock smiled again and visibly relaxed.

“Yeah, I will just go to the hospital now. Don't you worry about me, Myc.” Greg muttered and it made John grin who let go of him now and pulled down his shirt again.

“Gregory?” He looked at him and questioningly raised a brow.

“Mycroft, Greg was hurt in the fight. He needs to have an x-ray.” John explained. Mycroft didn't know what to do. And for the first time John saw the resemblance between the brothers. Luckily, Greg knew about this and didn't get it wrong. Instead, he smiled at him.

“I'll be back in no time.” Greg said. Now Mycroft approached him palming his face.

“I know.” He gently kissed him.

Outside a very quiet helicopter landed on the front lawn to not disturb the garden-party. Mycroft walked him outside followed by one of the guards. The second stayed with John and Sherlock.

“I will take Mr Holmes into his room to take care of his injuries.” The guard nodded and spoke into his radio. John made him stand outside their door after he had searched the room. Inside they looked at each other. Sherlock's eyes were still huge in his pale face but he didn't say anything. John knew he had to be the one to make it better.

“What do you need?” John quietly asked holding his hand again.

“I need you to embrace me and tell me everything is just fine between us.” John sighed but only inwardly. He pulled him close and hugged him.

“Everything is fine between us. We are good. I won't leave you. Not now. Not ever.” John said speaking into the fabric of Sherlock's shirt. Sherlock held him tight and placed his chin on top of his head.

“Thank you.” He murmured. They stood like that for several minutes.

“My head needs taking care of.” Sherlock suddenly murmured into John's short hair.

“Sit down, please. I'll get my bag.” John washed his hands. Sherlock sat on his deck-chair and waited for him. Gently John tilted his head to the side and cleaned and disinfected.

“No products for two days, please. Just plain water.” Sherlock looked at him.

“Yes, Doctor Watson.” John smiled.

“And if you feel any pain, you will talk to me, understand?” Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, John. You could give me a painkiller now, please? I need to go back to the party. And soon the first guests for the dinner-party will arrive. I have to man the door again.”

“Are you sure, you are up to it?” John seriously asked.

“Yes, I am fine. We could return a bit earlier than planned and I rest for half an hour. Then we get dressed and attend dinner. Then we dance.”

“I will talk to mummy. You must be excused from your duties. Your head will thank you later.” John was serious.

“John, mummy already knows. She always knows. You don't have to worry.”

“I am still worried because there is one man left to be arrested.” Sherlock pulled out a mobile and typed a few things.

“No, there isn't. The three of them have been taken away. They will be interrogated very thorough.”

“Before you'll join mummy downstairs you should change your shirt. The collar is soaked with blood.” Sherlock sighed and took off his jacket. He almost violently ripped off his shirt and made the buttons fly. John raised a brow.

“It's ruined anyway.” Sherlock shrugged. John stared and swallowed.

“You are so beautiful...” He whispered. Sherlock blushed and didn't know what to do or say. John smiled.

“You need to clean your neck. It's bloody, too.” John said.

“Yes, of course. But you have to do my back because I can't see there.” Sherlock looked up from behind his thick lashes. John wondered if this was an attempt of flirtation. If it was, he was very successful because John quickly agreed. In fact, he cleaned his back for minutes with a warm washcloth.

“Perfectly white again and as good as new.” He said after having finished. Sherlock sat on the toilet-lid and now reached out for him. John stood between his legs when Sherlock pulled him close and buried his face into his flat stomach.

“I can't wait until we return home. Back to Baker Street.” He murmured into his flesh. Sherlock's breath ghosted over John's skin and his cock stirred inside his boxers. John placed his hands on his shoulders.

“We will survive the dinner-party and soon we will be on our way home. I will take care of you, I promise.”

“I am glad you are with me, John.” Sherlock admitted quietly and John pecked a kiss on his forehead when tilting his head back so he could look him into the eyes.

“Get dressed again. It's time.” John whispered. Sherlock sighed and stood. His arms fell off John's body. He went for his wardrobe and got another shirt. He took his jacket but left the gun this time. It wasn't necessary anymore.

“Here, take this painkiller and drink the water.” John handed him both and Sherlock obediently drank.

“Thank you.” He cast a last look into the mirror and then looked a bit closer at John.

“You know you've got blood on you, too, and your jacket is torn?” John just looked at him. Then he checked and violently swore.

“I'll join mummy. See you in a few, John.” He smiled and left the room. He felt much better.

***

Both Sherlock and John attended the dinner-party. Even Greg came back. Mummy seemed to be relaxed, John thought, looking at her over the dinner table. She looked back and smirked. It was very Holmesy.  
Sherlock danced and attended to Lady Rosalyn who was simply besotted with him. John glared at her standing by the side. Suddenly Mycroft appeared on his left.

“John, you look like you are planning an invasion. Smile. You are scaring our guests.” John looked up at him. He was wearing his dress uniform with medals and everything. Sherlock had seen to that.

“You promised me other people in uniform. I need something to do.” Mycroft grinned.

“That's what I wanted to hear. See that man over there by the window?” John nodded.

“He is a Russian general. Now he is talking with that French soldier. Join them and talk. The topic is black ops. Don't forget to bring drinks.” He gestured to a waiter who just nodded at him and quickly returned with three glasses topped up with a clear fluid.  
John knew arguing with Mycroft was senseless. He simply took the drinks and walked over. It took mere seconds and the conversation was going. The three of them were laughing and drinking. John knew what Mycroft wanted. Mycroft knew what John could take. He simply knew that John would bring back some intel.

He sighed and looked around for Gregory. He sat on an armchair surrounded by a bunch of women who brought him drinks and snacks cooing over him. Mycroft always wondered how that worked. But by looking at his man he knew how it worked. It had worked on him, too.

Sherlock had moved on from Lady Rosalyn to Royalty and by now danced with a Princess. They looked splendid. The dinner-party was a great success. Mycroft had managed to close several business transactions and he was very pleased. He looked over to mummy who already sat on an armchair and only watched her guests. Their eyes met and he knew this was the sign. He straightened up and escorted her out.

The party went on for several hours more and when he finally cleared out the last guests, even he was sweaty and exhausted. Meanwhile, Gregory was asleep on a chaise lounge and looked peaceful. Sherlock stuffed some cake into his mouth and was wide awake. He had probably taken one pill too much. John was still looking fresh and alert. Also, a bit high. This had done him bloody good.

“Mycroft, can we talk tomorrow about this? I would like to take Sherlock upstairs and try to make him rest.” He said.

“You don't have to worry about that. I will be listening to the audio.” He carefully reached into John's pocket and retrieved a tiny device. John glared at him.

“Take good care of my brother, John. Good night.” He smiled and John bared his teeth before turning around.

“Sherlock, are you done?” He asked approaching him. Sherlock swallowed a bite of cake.

“Yes. Let me take a plate upstairs.” John just nodded and watched him fill a plate with more cake and a small bowl with cream. That gave him ideas. He had promised him a _later_ hours ago.

***  
After that, there was always a bowl with cream inside the fridge of 221B Baker Street.


End file.
